


A Double Life Ficlets

by Amonae



Series: Due Diligence [2]
Category: Young Avengers
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-04-02 05:13:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4047400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amonae/pseuds/Amonae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets of scenes or stories that don't feature elsewhere in the main body of A Double Life. These include, but are not limited to: mentioned events, alternate POVs, and deleted scenes. The majority of these will hold up as stand-alone pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dating 101: How to Leave a Lasting Impression

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone~  
> So I have too many ideas rolling around in my head, but since they don't fit into the flow of the main story, I decided to keep the snippets separate from the rest.  
> Please feel free to request for these at my tumblr: [amonaewrites.tumblr.com](http://amonaewrites.tumblr.com) (where you can also ask me questions, share feels, etc.)  
> These are not edited nearly as much as the main story, so any faults are my own (and please feel free to point them out).  
> There is only one story thus far, but I have plans for many more. <3

**(AKA That One Date)**

_Cute new summer dress? Check._

_Awesome pair of bright flats? Check and double check._

_Wicked new makeup look? En pointe, thanks to Kate._

Cassie gave an experimental twirl in front of her mirrored closet, watching the floral skirt billow out around her. She was pleased to see the folds settle back in an agreeable position, not stick out at awkward angles, and she gave the hem a quick pat before snagging her purse from the bed. Her summer had been relatively uneventful in terms of her love life--she’d broken it off with the high school boyfriend (he had been a dick nearly 80% of the time anyway), and though she’d had a few beach-side crushes that went unmentioned to anyone but her bestie, Cassie had wound up going through her first few classes of the semester as a single woman.

Not that she minded, but it would have been nice to spend her weekends doing a little more than studying and the occasional club outing when Kate wasn’t too busy with training for work. After all, her parents had rarely let her out on what would be considered a ‘date,’ and with a ten o’clock curfew she had limited options.

Then she ran into Eli.

Literally, ran into him--while tearing full blast through the halls in an attempt to make it across campus in less than the ten minutes allotted to break. She had taken her eyes from the hallway full of students in order to check her watch, and by the time she looked up again, she was half a step from making contact with another body. The only thing she managed to note before tumbling towards the floor was that the person she slammed into had been too busy with his nose in a book to heed his surroundings. (Not that it was his fault, mind you, but she felt a little better knowing she wasn’t the only one not paying attention.)

Cassie had closed her eyes, prepared for the impact of the cement floor, and found herself pleasantly surprised that it never came. The young man she had barrelled into had enough sense to drop his book and sweep an arm behind her shoulders, keeping her relatively upright (if somewhat tilted) instead of sprawled on the floor among their collective things.

Oh yeah, he won some big points right off the bat.

“Hey, are you alright? Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” he replied quickly as he helped her to a proper standing position before gathering up their belongings that had scattered through the hallway.

“Oh, no. I mean, yes. I’m fine. But no, not your fault. I was rushing to class and… Class!” she yelped, becoming a tiny blonde tornado as she quickly gathered her things and jammed them haphazardly into her bag. “I have to go! Sorry, going to be late!” Cassie was already halfway down the hall before the other even had a chance to reply with more than a raised brow.

But wouldn’t you know it, he was waiting outside her classroom when it let out, the flood of students streaming into the hallway almost obscuring his muscled body leaning against the outer wall. Cassie was digging in her bag again and barely noticed him until he spoke.

“You really need to keep an eye on where you’re going, with your track record and all.” His tone wasn’t mean, though the words almost were, but his voice had a teasing hint behind it and there was the edge of a grin at the corner of his mouth.

“Oh! Sorry, I was just looking for my… Are you stalking me?” she asked, jutting her lower lip out in a frown and settling her hands on her hips. “Because I know karate and stuff.”

He laughed then, and any concerns she might have had fluttered away. Okay, so he had a really nice laugh. And that crooked little smile wasn’t half bad either.

“No, not stalking you. But you’re probably looking for this,” he offered, handing over a phone that was way too neon and bedazzled to belong to him.

“Oh! Um, thanks I probably dropped it and… Did you want to catch a movie or something at some point?” Cassie babbled before she could stop herself, retrieving her phone and stuffing it somewhere into the confines of her bag.

To his credit, Eli didn’t startle or blurt out a negative answer. He just raised a brow suspiciously and Cassie saw the edge of that grin sneak back onto his features. “How do you know I’m not a serial killer?”

“Well, you already said you’re not a stalker, and you returned my phone… But I guess you have a point!” she insisted, folding her arms with a huff. “Tell you what, there’s an event going on at Tompkins Square Park this Saturday. How about you meet me by the basketball courts around ten and we’ll stay in nice, public, open areas?”

“Sounds like a safer bet,” he replied, pulling out his own phone ( _sleek and grey with absolutely no personal touches--a man of mystery_ ). “Can I get your number just in case I’m running behind or something?”

“If you’re a creepy stalker, shouldn’t you already have it?” she quipped, rambling off the digits of her number and quickly receiving the standard ‘hi’ text from him in response.

“I just want to see if you’ll give me the real one when I ask,” he teased right back, quick to rise to the banter.

“Cassie, by the way.”

“Eli.”

That had been four days ago, and it was only now that Cassie was beginning to feel the twist of nerves in her stomach. She had received just a single text the day before their arranged meeting (verifying the time and place of their date) since exchanging numbers with tall, dark, and handsome.

_Okay, Cassie. You’re going to be friendly but not obnoxious. Sweet but not simpering. And if all else fails, Kate will totally come bail you out._

She stared down her reflection in the mirror one last time, giving herself a quick look that was meant to be encouraging but kind of just looked silly, and headed to the park.

“This might have been a bad idea,” Cassie whispered, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, trying to peer her way through the crowds milling about for the familiarity of an almost-stranger. She wiped the sticky sweat of her palms among the flowers on her skirt, looking up at the same moment he approached with a wave and subtle smile.

Cassie ran over to him, putting on her best grin even though it was warmer than she had planned for and she felt nervous about over-sweating.

_Did I put on deodorant?_

“Hey,” Eli offered calmly, looking as though he were used to the three-digit weather in jeans and a tee shirt that was smattered with quotes. “You look cute.”

“T-thank you!” she chirped, not expecting that and feeling her already heat-pink cheeks flare up further. “Let’s grab something to cool down and then head to the event, I think it starts at eleven or so.”

“Sure. I passed an ice cream cart on my way here, if you’re into that.”

“Definitely! I feel like I might melt in this heat!”

Eli was a gentleman and bought her ice cream for her, getting some kind of ice bar for himself.

“Don’t like ice cream?” she asked, already devouring hers with fervor, cautious not to get any where it had no business being.

“Lactose intolerant,” he admitted with a quirk of his lips. “But don’t hold back on my account.”

“Ooo, strike one,” she teased, pointing the cone at him before bringing it back to her lips and inhaling the rest.

_Means he won’t sneak my treats!  Score!_

“So, Eli,” she started, after they had remained in relative silence for longer than she found bearable. “Tell me about yourself.”

He lifted a brow at that, giving her a questioning look. “That’s kind of vague. What do you want to know?”

“Hm… Let’s start with an easy one… What’s your major?”

That got the reaction she wanted, a quick huff that might have been a chuckle or might have been irritation, but she could see the amusement in his eyes. Ever since she started attending University, that had been one of the first questions everyone always seemed to ask. After the third or fourth time, it got grating even for the most excited of students.

“Double major, poly sci with sociology, mostly focusing on crime and community. You?”

“Undeclared!” she boasted, reveling in the shock that passed over Eli’s face. “Just kidding, Bachelor of Science with hopes to get into molecular biology.”

Eli whistled, looking impressed and Cassie couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. “Not bad… Any particular reason you’re going that route? It’s no cake walk, that’s for sure.”

She went quiet for a moment, blonde hair slipping over her shoulder as she twisted the ice cream wrapper in her hands. “My dad, mostly. He would have been so excited for me.”

Cassie could almost _feel_ Eli flinch beside her. This was where a lot of guys would decide she had too many ‘daddy issues’ for their fleeting desires and bail.

Eli didn’t bail.

Instead, she felt the comforting warmth of a hand on her shoulder, and a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sorry. I’d like to say I know what that’s like but…”

“It’s okay,” she insisted, brightening and turning to look at his expression, somewhere between sympathy and a personal pain, not a hint of pity. “What about you? What’s your family like?”

Eli grunted a response and Cassie watched his face turn to stone. “It’s… complicated. I live with my Gran and Grandfather. Is it okay if we leave it at that?”

She could see the hint of pleading in his eyes, though his face remained still, and she offered the biggest grin she could manage. “You bet! No sense in dwelling on the past anyway. Now, let’s go pet some puppies!”

“What?” he asked, looking both confused and concerned at the same time.

“Come on!”

Before he could get a work in edgewise, Cassie was dragging him up and off the park bench towards the center of the greenspace they were facing.

That’s when everything just sort of… unraveled.

“I am **so** sorry!” Cassie was hovering nearby while Eli swallowed a second dose of allergy medication, the puffiness in his eyes finally dulling to just a red smear beneath them.

“It’s okay,” he insisted again, though his throat was raspy from the earlier swelling. “Really, it’s fine.”

“You should have _told_ me you were allergic!”

“I _tried_. Plus, it’s not like you told me where we were going today.”

“You make a terrible stalker.”

Eli was looking at her then, and she wasn’t sure if she saw anger behind the water in his eyes, but before she could say anything to dissuade him, he had tilted back his head and burst into laughter.

Cassie was shocked, though she found the sound infectious and soon was giggling alongside him. By the time they caught their breath, they were both wheezing and Cassie felt as though her ribs were on fire.

“Cassie,” Eli spoke, when he finally could, his voice light. “You’re a lot of fun, even if you’re a bit…”

“A bit what?” She asked, puffing out her cheeks until he reached out a finger to prod them.

“Crazy,” he replied, that tiny half smile back on his lips.

Something odd happened then, something Cassie hadn’t expected--if this had been a regular date, this would be the moment that sparks would fly, she would feel that flutter in her chest and a rushing swell of emotions and urgency. But nothing happened. No magic moment, no romantic lines, no tentative first kiss. There was only a soft warmth in her chest, like she and Eli had known each other for far longer than a week, and things were just fine, just like this.

“Eli, can I ask something crazy?”

His smile faltered a little, and his expression waned on the side of wary. “Yeah?”

“Can we just be friends? Just keep this… whatever it is without the complications?” The question made her more nervous than if she had asked him to throw himself at her, or completely broken it off altogether.

Eli was quiet, and she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He was smiling when she did finally convince herself to look up and any anxiety about her question dissipated into the warm air. It was shortly after their date at the park that Cassie found out Eli was the biggest book nerd on the planet, worked at a library, and was constantly crushing movie-versions of books in an online blog.

Yeah, it probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway.

_End._


	2. Covert Surveillance: How To Ruin a Perfectly Good Stakeout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another side-story to "A Double Life." This one coincides with the club scene in chapter four, just an alternate POV. This one unfortunately won't make a lot of sense if you haven't read aDL, sorry! It's quite short, but I didn't want to make it drag on too much. Enjoy~

“Saw that, asshole. Good to stay in character but stop scratching yourself so damn much, makes you look tweaky.” Her voice was a low growl as she adjusted the earpiece, zooming in on growing crowd outside the club and spying Ted scrabbling to pull his hands away from his newly-sprouted facial hair. True, it had to be itchy as hell, especially considering he barely even let the shade of a five o’clock shadow grow in; on the other hand, if he kept scratching at himself they would never manage to get into the club, let alone find Thomas.

Not that the lead was particularly promising, a random tip with a blurry photo from a few nights ago didn’t give them much to work with, but the arching anxiety Kate had building in her chest from this case gave her an inkling of hope that they would get something out of this escapade. At the very least, that smart-ass kid they were chasing down could explain why the hell he was on the lam from his own parents.

“Line’s moving,” she noted, watching the pack of club-goers march and shuffle forward, Ted trudging along with them. He looked miserable, kind of like he’d rather be anywhere else, but the majority of the hipsters in line appeared about the same, so it worked in his favor. At least he’d stopped scratching like some rabid dog. “Just breathe, this is the hard part. Your ID is about as legit as it gets, and I added to the database--” Kate saw his head jerk towards the building he presumed she was camped out on (two to her left), and amended her words. “Temporarily, of course.”

He was about halfway through the line and she could almost see the nerves mounting in the rise of his shoulders. “Once you’re in, it’s all easy smiles and hanging around until we catch sight of him.”

“If.”

Kate had to hold back the pressing urge to groan and roll her eyes, the negativity of her partner seeping through the audio connection. “Right, if.” If she were able, she would be right alongside him in a heartbeat and they both knew it. But this case had thrown them through all kinds of loops they weren’t expecting, and the tiny fact that the brat was a speedster just made things all the more complicated. Her eyes needed to be in the sky so should could map out his route should he choose to dart as soon as he caught on. _If_ he caught on, she reminded herself quietly.

“And don’t be afraid to try and have some actual _fun_ while you’re in there, okay?” she quipped just as he approached the bouncer, a huge guy that looked like he could snap Ted in half with his little finger, which was saying something. The moment Ted slipped past the big guy without so much as a nod, Kate started to fiddle with her communication device, cursing softly under her breath. Inside the club was quite a bit louder than she had accounted for, and at this point, she wasn’t sure if she could hear Ted unless he was screaming over the sound of the thrumming beats. Her worry increased with the continued silence from his end until she heard the tail end of a sentence while fiddling with the controls.

“--ace is packed.”

_Thank god._

“Try to keep your eyes open, there’s a VIP lounge up top too, but I don’t think he would draw attention to himself by going up there willingly,” she replied, consulting both the digital layout of the venue on her tablet and her memory of the place (though that was hazy, at best).

There was something that was probably a response from Ted, but the sudden burst of interference over the link was enough that she had to rip the device from her ear before she went deaf. “Shit!” Kate hissed, quickly fighting with the dials and jamming it back into her ear.

The line was completely dead.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!” she snarled, quickly rebooting the software remotely from her tablet in the hopes that it would restart the connection. “Come on Ted… Don’t do something stupid while I can’t tell you not to…”

It took twenty minutes to get the damn device back online, something to do with the bluetooth system they used within the club cutting into her own comms. There was an eerie silence on the other end, the muted sounds of bass echoing through tiled walls. He was in the bathroom? That made sense, he wouldn’t leave it on his person while he… But wouldn’t he have turned it off? Did he forget how?

Kate ran through possibilities while she waited for Ted to speak up, but it wasn’t him she heard first; a slow, guttural growl bounced around the small space and she could feel her heartbeat shudder.

“Ted?” she called as loud as she dared, lest she give away her position. But her concern was rising with every passing moment of quiet. “Ted? TED!”

There was a fumbling sound, the muffled drag of cloth, and then a quiet “Sorry.”

“What **fuck** happened, Ted.” Her heart was beating too fast, too erratically. Forcing a deep breath through in through her nose and out through parted lips, she managed to keep herself calm and in position; though she was fairly certain she was only three seconds away from darting down the fire escape and blazing into the club.

“I don’t think Thomas is here. Even if he shows, I… I don’t think I’ll be able to track him down. It’s crowded, and I’ve shifted back.”

_Shit._

Whatever happened in there rattled him enough to remove his calm _and_ blow his cover, all in one fell swoop. Kate knew what happened in his past, knew the personas he used to take on, and knew it would take a lot more than a little bit of stress to send him barrelling right back to his true self.

“Did anyone see?” Keeping things professional might be best, in this case. If Ted got worked up again, who knows what he might do to get himself out of there. It would be easy for him to slip back to old habits, to take on previous shades and become someone else, get lost in that.

“No.” There was a moment of quiet and she heard his footsteps on the tile. “No, I managed to locate an apparently lesser-used washroom.”

She didn’t mean to sigh, but it caught up with her, parts of the tension whooshing from her frame in the night breeze. “Okay, that’s good at least. You think you can shift back and head out here? We can regroup and decide what to do next.”

“Kate I… I can’t. I’m not leaving yet.”

_What._

“What?”

“Billy is… Billy’s here.”

_Did he see? Is that why…?_

“Oh,” she retorted, playing it off with a quiet snort and trying to lighten the mood, to pull him from the depths that were dragging him down. “I see, you want to play hooky so you can get some face time with--”

“He’s here with someone else.”

_Shit fuck shit god damn._

“Like… a date?”

“Yeah, or like a boyfriend.”

There was a crack in Ted’s voice that almost made her own hitch, but she bit back the swell of anger and hurt she felt on his behalf. Now was not the time to lose their heads, she needed to get him out of there so they could discuss it or cry over it or whatever he needed. Making a huge scene wasn’t going to do them any favors in the long run.

“Oh,” she mumbled, mind still whirring through her options and outlets and all the things in-between.

“Yeah.”

Things were silent then, both running out of words to say, no more false pleasantries to make it seem like this would work out. Lacking any other ideas, and not wanting Ted to start spiraling down that dark pit she knew he was perched over, Kate did what she rarely did--she babbled.

“Well fuck him then. Just get yourself out of there, Ted. You don’t need to do anything about this tonight, it won’t be worth it, trust me. Just come out and cool down and we can talk this through. We can go to my place, eat some terrible food, and watch a movie. You can talk to Billy tomorrow, it’s probably a big misunderstanding anyway.”

Quiet greeted her, no response from the other end. “...Ted?”

She heard the crackle of the device as it was pulled from his ear, hard enough to send that bolt of static through the line. “Fuck! Ted! Don’t you dare go out there! Ted! Listen to me! Ted!”

Fuck her cover. Cover was blown and about to be blown wide open if she didn’t figure out a way to get a hold of him. Things would be worse if she went in there too, she didn’t even know if he would look like the Ted she recognized. So Kate waited, and messed with the settings on the ear piece, and cursed loud enough to bounce a few back from apartment windows below.

Shit was about to hit the fan and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

 


	3. Paper Mache: Why Billy Lives in Residence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short blurb that explains why the heck Billy lives on campus when commuting would be much cheaper (though his sanity would most indubitably suffer). For anyone who has attempted school work at home with younger siblings... you will know how poor Billy feels.

_Not here._

_Not there._

_Not **anywhere.**_

Billy cursed inwardly; when he started sounding like a Dr. Suess book, he knew he was probably losing his mind. He’d torn apart his room, knowing the second his mom caught sight of it she would have him grounded for a month, but this was much more important than lacking a social life--his grades depended on it.

“MOM!” he leaned over the edge of the railing and hollered down to the first floor. “Have you seen my term paper?”

“William, you don’t have to yell. I’m not deaf.” Rebecca Kaplan approached the base of the stairs, settling her hand on the swirl in the rail on the end. “And no, did you leave it at Cassandra’s?”

“No, I called her and she checked. I swear I had it here, I remember going through it last night at the dining room table.”

_Shit, shit, shit. I’m definitely going to flunk this class if I don’t find it._

“Then you’ll just have to reprint it if you can’t find it,” his mother answered succinctly, a tap of her nails on the railing accompanying her words.

“But all of my edits were on that copy!” _Okay, Cassie’s edits._

“Did you check with your brothers?”

_Of course, one of the brats probably made off with it as a joke._

“No, thanks mom!” Billy shouted, racing off down the hall and escaping the tail end of his mother’s lecture on running indoors.

The twin’s room was the last at the end of the hall, a huge poster proclaiming “KEEP OUT LOSERS” on the door. In fine print, obviously a hastily-added segment beneath the large words, was “go away Billy.” Super mature. With a roll of his eyes, he knocked and waited, listening to the scurrying sound of movement inside.

“You go get it.”

“No, you!”

“You!”

“Hey, Wonder Twins, let me in. I know you took my paper,” Billy grumbled, quickly losing what patience he had as he wasted precious searching time waiting for his idiot brothers to open the door.

The door opened a crack and a pair of dark eyes watched him warily. He couldn’t tell if it was Isaac or Aaron but at this point, it didn’t really matter. “You’re going to have to be more specific. We’ve seen a lot of papers.”

“Lots and lots of papers!” chimed a second voice from the depths of the room. Billy could distinctly hear the ‘ _krrrssssht_ ’ sound of something being torn with in the room.

Billy felt his stomach drop. “Seriously, let me in. If that’s my term paper you’re destroying…”

“What? You’re gonna _tattle_ on us?”

He groaned--ever since their mother had discouraged tattling as a method of reliable conversation (she argued that it was mainly ineffective and untrue, and that the boys should write out their complaint as a way of voicing them), the twins had gotten away with next-to-murder.

“No, I’m going to bust in there and kick the shit out of you,” Billy growled, trying to put as much menace into his voice as he could.

Well, they were laughing. But it was worth a shot.

“Moooom!” he shouted over the bannister, watching as his mother’s head came into view. “They’re destroying my paper in there!”

“William, they are working on their project for art. I’m sure they’re not using your term paper in their paper mache dragon. Are you, boys?” His mother’s voice carried up the stairs and all sounds of destruction from the twins’ room stopped. “I’m sure that you two know better than to use the pinnacle of your brother’s hard work for a project when there is plenty of perfectly good scrap paper in the recycle bin.”

“Uh…” The bedroom door opened a crack, two sets of eyes peering into the hall. “What did this… term thingie look like again…?”

_Oh my god._

_You have got to be fucking kidding me._

_I’m going to kill them._

What used to be Billy’s term paper had become the torso and skull of a rather lopsided dragon, curls of construction paper flame dancing from it’s maw. He could see the delicate scribble of Cassie’s notes on the edge of a shoulder, his own hasty scribbles along a cheekbone. Groaning, he pressed his palms against his eyes as his brothers forked over the remaining pages (all three of them).

“That’s it. I’m moving to campus.”

~~~~~~

“William, you are not moving to campus.”

“Mom!” Though he was trying to put on his best ‘enraged adolescent’ look, his mother was giving him a flat stare that was probably melting the polar ice caps all the way from the Upper East Side. “If I stay here the twins are just going to destroy my stuff! Look what they did to my paper,” he complained, holding out the paltry stack of remaining pages and the shredded strips he managed to save before they hit the paste.

She didn’t seem phased. “Did you leave it lying about? I told the boys they could collect scrap to use for their project, if you left it sitting around for several days, it may have been categorized as ‘abandoned.’”

“It wasn’t sitting around for more than… maybe three days,” he mumbled, watching the validity of his argument seep through his fingers. “I can get enough from scholarships and bursaries to support myself on-campus. And aren’t you always telling me I should try to be more independent?”

“I think your mother meant cooking dinner once-in-awhile or doing your own laundry,” Billy’s father supplied, thumbing through another page of the cookbook while adding ingredients in a haphazard mess to the bubbling pot on the stove.

“No, dear, perhaps he’s right,” Rebecca answered, snapping her laptop shut in order to direct her full attention to her eldest son.

“I am?” Billy questioned, beginning to doubt himself under the heat of his mother’s gaze.

“Yes, it may be a positive learning experience for you, at the very least.” She glanced to her husband to assure him with a quick look before continuing. “You may live in residence for a semester on the condition that it be paid through your own means. Should you prove to be self-sufficient--that means no bringing home all of your laundry for your father to do, William--we will pay for the remainder of your living expenses during your school year. If you would like to remain there over the summer, or arrange an alternative living situation, we will discuss it as the situation arises. Does this sound fair?”

He wasn’t sure if he was hearing right, though from the sound of it he was actually getting his way (sort of) for once. “Yeah! I mean, yes, that sounds fair. I’ll, uh, go pack?” he offered, starting up the stairs two at a time before pausing to grin at his parents. “Thank you!”

Billy could feel the excitement rising in his chest as he scoured his room for everything he might need--there were only a few weeks before the new semester, and he just hoped he could find an open room somewhere on campus before it was too late. While digging through his closet, he felt the edge of his duffle bag strap and gave it a good tug, pulling a tower of DVDs that _someone_ had so thoughtfully arranged along the back wall.

“Goddamn it! Isaac! Aaron!” he screamed, hearing the distinct trill of the boys’ giggling followed by the thundering of feet down the hallway. “I’m going to kill you!” Billy snarled, slamming his door shut as opposed to taking the bait and chasing them.

Yeah, this move couldn’t come soon enough.

 


	4. if (<weekday>) {then: A Day In The Life of Jonas else: Vision Protocol 0010100}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little side-story that wouldn't leave me alone after I wrote the scene from Jonas's point of view in A Double Life. Enjoy~! :)

**06:45 AM**

_I believe I am required on campus early this morning._

**_Yes, you appear to have a staff meeting at approximately o’eight hundred hours._ **

_Ah, and I am to assume there will be breakfast._

**_By my records there is to be a light breakfast including pastries and fruit._ **

_Of course there is. Is there an acceptable parameter for tardiness in the instance of this meeting? It would be preferable if I could incidentally ‘miss’ the breakfast portion, as opposed to explaining my lack of appetite._

**_ Fifteen minutes would be acceptable, though might I recommend an extreme gluten allergy as a substitution for tardiness? _ **

_ Thank you, JARVIS. I will consider it. Would you please inform Mister Stark of my early absence? _

**_ While I believe Sir will remain comatose for a minimum of another five hours, considering the time he finally ‘crashed’ this morning, I will mention it when he awakes. _ **

_ I was not aware of a call to assemble last night. _

**_ Oh, it was nothing of the sort. Sir was simply distracted by yet another side project. I would not trouble yourself with it. _ **

_ Very well. Please expect my return at the usual hour, I will inform you should this change. _

**_ Thank you, sir. _ **

_ You’re quite welcome, JARVIS. Have a pleasant day. _

**_ And you as well. _ **

\----

** 08:05 AM **

“On the topic of the budget, we appear to have enough for an extra batch of handouts per class as well as the installation of smartboards in three of the older lecture halls, though I am afraid that we will have to wait until the following fiscal year to proceed with the remaining rooms. The classrooms that will be receiving the new boards are--”

_**I am sorry to interrupt, sir, but you have an email marked as urgent from Mister Barton.** _

_No trouble, JARVIS. Please proceed to relay the message, if you would._

**_I do not believe it should be classified as urgent, however, the notice does mention the return of one Thor Odinson to the tower. The urgency, apparently, seems to be around the current stock of ‘Pop Tarts’ in the pantry._ **

_Oh dear, that is quite the emergency. Please add them to the supply list, JARVIS. I will reply to Agent Barton once I am no longer preoccupied. Ah, please excuse me. I believe my attention is being requested here._

“Pardon, Catherine?”

“I was just making sure you’re okay with waiting a bit to get your new projector.” _Miss Phillips is flushed, perhaps she is not well? Or I have embarrassed her by delaying a prompt reply._

“Ah, yes. That is quite alright. I believe I can make do until the new year at the least. It is not an urgent request, simply something that may be beneficial for some of my students.”

“Great, I’ll try real hard to get it for you next year.”

_She is grinning, her accent comes through more when she is at ease, so apparently I have given an appropriate response. Excellent._

\----

**08:45 AM**

“Mister Richards?”

_Oh dear. She has that look about her, and the flushed demeanor is back. I believe this is to be awkward._

“Yes, Catherine?”

“Please, call me Cathy. And I was just wonderin’...” _Drat, here it comes._ “If you were doing anything after your classes this afternoon? I thought we could maybe grab a drink or something, off campus?”

“My apologies, Catherine. I will not be available.”

_JARVIS, how does one state disinterest in a particular task without offending the opposite party?_

**_I’m afraid my practical records on the subject are rather, well, limited due to sir’s interaction history; however, I can offer a variety of options as presented on the world wide web._ **

_No, thank you. I believe the information therein is somewhat… lacking in delicacy. I shall find a way to manage this._

“Maybe tomorrow?”

_Oh she does sound so hopeful. It’s unfortunate she has chosen to fixate on myself, as she would logically have several other choices with her appearance. She is, how would one say, ‘cute’?_

_Running search query;_

_where <input=“how to let someone down easy”;_

_results per page=100;_

_sort=popularity >_

“I’m afraid that I cannot, I am currently seeing someone.”

_Was the phrasing correct? She seems upset, perhaps I made a tactical error?_

“Oh. Uh, sorry I didn’t know. Well, she’s one lucky girl! Um… I’ll see you at the next meeting?”

“Undoubtedly.”

_Well, her departure seemed rather rushed, though I may have upset her. I do hope I did not cause her any emotional distress. I shall discuss with Mister Stark. JARVIS, could you please tell me when he is available?_

**_Of course, sir._ **

_Thank you._

\----

**02:21 PM**

“Hello, Jonas speaking.”

“Vision, you want to explain to me why forty boxes of Pop Tarts just showed up in my tower?”

“I believe that JARVIS was replenishing the supply as Thor is to be rejoining us any day now.” _Mister Stark sounds upset, but that exasperated sort of upset that means he likely won’t stay mad for long. I would hope. Ah, there is it, the heavy sigh. I may have understated the level of his disappointment._

“But _why_  forty goddamn boxes!? He was only scheduled to order one!”

“I do not believe one box would satisfy the requirement, sir?”

“No, I am not signing that! Give me a minute!”

_He is speaking with someone, the voice is unfamiliar? Perhaps a delivery attendant?_

“Sir?”

“Look, I get you meant well, but one box would have been plenty. A box has twenty-four of those little boxes, which each have twelve Pop Tarts in them. Instead, we have forty of those big boxes. Now, tell me, how the hell are we going to go through over ten thousand cardboard-flavored breakfast pastries?!”

_Oh dear. This is a peculiar problem._

“I… am very sorry, Mister Stark. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s fine, really. I’ll… we will work out some way to get rid of these. Maybe birdbrain can use them for target practice…”

_Is he… laughing?_

“Sir?”

“Really I just called to make sure JARVIS didn’t have some sort of huge glitch in his code or something, But now that I know you’re the culprit--”

“I apologize, Mister Stark. I will accept any punishment you see fit.”

“Punishment, huh?” _There is a moment of quiet, perhaps this punishment is worse than I thought. Mayhaps I am the one to be reprogrammed._ “How about this, **you** get to tell Thor how many Pop Tarts he has to eat this time around.”

_I do not see how this is to be disciplinary._

“Of course, sir. I will inform him the moment he arrives this evening.”

“Great. And, Vision?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Maybe leave the ordering things to JARVIS, next time?”

“Of course.”

\----

**04:49 PM**

_I seem to have underestimated just how much the son of Odin enjoys these artificial treats. I still fail to see how this is to be a ‘punishment,’ but perhaps the misty eyes of a God was supposed to awaken some sort of sensibilities of regret? Thor seems quite happy with the news, I even received what Mister Barton would begrudgingly refer to as ‘the bear hug to end all existence of bones.’ I seem to have come out of it unscathed, though I don’t exactly have ‘bones’ in quite the same manner as--_

“Jonas? Can I get your hand over here?”

“Of course, Doctor Banner.”

_Usually the preparation of a large meal is assisted by either Agent Barton or Captain Rogers, I do hope the tasks Doctor Banner asks of me are simple, as I don’t quite understand taste in the same way as they do._

“Could I get you to chop these?”

_I have been handed what appears to be a rather odd assortment of vegetables, though I do not believe Doctor Banner’s culinary results have ever been questioned._

“Of course.”

_Ah, silence. Quite typical of working with Doctor Banner. I believe I have a somewhat reasonable grasp on the preparation of these vegetables, though I should be done in no time at all. Perhaps that is why it was requested of me? If he behind in preparations, I am much faster at simple tasks such as these._

“Hey, Jonas? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Doctor Banner. I will answer anything within my capabilities.”

“Do you like it here?”

_What an odd request._

“I am not sure what you mean, though I don’t find it unpleasant here, so the logical conclusion would be that I ‘like’ it here.”

“Ah, no. That’s not quite… what I meant.”

_Doctor Banner seems a bit flustered by his words, or perhaps my own. He has reverted to silence again, though I believe he is… ‘collecting his thoughts’?_

“I meant are you happy here? At the tower?”

_Oh. This is a bewildering request of me, though I suppose it is to be expected. The Avengers do seem to be quite interested in the level of the team’s ‘happiness,’ both as a whole and on individual levels._

“I am still unsure of your exact request, Doctor Banner, though by all requirements of ‘happiness’ I do believe that, yes, I am ‘happy’ here at the tower. I cannot quite grasp a future elsewhere, even though my base structure has changed my mind is very much the same as it was before. This has and will always be considered my home.”

_This appears to have made the Doctor ‘happy,’ he has at least left the subject for the time being. ‘Home,’ is a rather loose definition, simply meaning that I consider this to be my permanent residence for foreseeable future. However, it seems to have appeased Doctor Banner, so I will leave it as such._

“Doctor, these are finished.”

“Thank you, Jonas. Could you start on heating the oils in those pans over there?”

“Of course.”

\----

**07:43 PM**

_We are an odd assortment of people._

_A man out of history._

_An engineer turned vigilante._

_A woman of so many secrets._

_An archer who believes he is a comedian._

_A man with two faces but a good heart._

_A, quite literal, God of Thunder._

_And myself._

_Yet we gather around the same table, sharing a meal that many hands were used to make, and it feels like an approximation of a family--with all of its members working towards a singular goal of mutual happiness. Though I cannot join in the feasting, I have a seat at the table, same as anyone else. They ensure that I am not left out, that I am feeling… ‘happy.’_

_I believe I am. Happy, that is._

_Because this is my home._


	5. Let It Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone! This takes place _immediately_ after chapter 10 of A Double Life. It may make sense without it, but keep in mind, you will be missing a lot of backstory. Have a great holiday everyone!

It was a bright day, sunshine peeking through the twists of buildings downtown, alighting the scurrying crowds with a gentle glow. Despite the date, people were still rushing through what Billy assumed was last-minute Christmas shopping. He wrapped his hands tighter around the paper cup between them, reluctant to admit that his mother may have been right when she berated him for not taking gloves. There was no snow on the ground, which wasn’t unusual for NYC on December twenty-fourth, but with everything else that had become so upside-down in his life he had almost expected them to be buried in the white stuff. Or maybe Doombots, if the super-villainy had anything to say about it.

Reclining on the bench, he hissed out a low sound of pain and closed his eyes. His ribs still hurt, but that was to be expected--it would take weeks for them to fully heal, though that had been the least of his troubles as a result of their battle. They had stayed at the hospital until the afternoon of the twenty-third, and by that point, his parents had been notified and were hovering anxiously at his bedside, Teddy stepping out to give them some time. His mother looked like she had been crying and his father was unusually stern while he tried to cobble together some sort of explanation that would make sense; he took a fall heading to the subway, he was caught up in a street fight, there was a car accident.

In the end, he told the truth.

At first, his parents hadn’t believed him, had assumed he hit his head and was speaking nonsense about magic and shapeshifting and super villains. It was at that point that Captain America decided to drop by, in full costume, much to Billy’s shock. He was pretty sure he spent the entire explanation staring open-mouthed at the Captain; after all, he wasn’t conscious during the parts of the battle where the Avengers had saved their sorry butts, he had to hear it relayed from Teddy, Eli, and Cassie in various levels of excitement.

His brain completely stopped functioning when the Captain said that they had been very capable of holding their own, despite inexperience, and that he would be more than happy to help train them at the Avengers mansion.

Train them _with the Avengers_.

Billy was positive that he had to be in a coma and that this was just the result of a weird coma-dream, but the unease on his parents’ faces was enough to convince him otherwise. The discussion they had after Cap left the room was possibly the least pleasant one he’d been forced to have with them since he came out. But in the end, somehow, they understood. Sure, they didn’t like it, but they understood.

So now he had tentative plans to start ‘superheroing 101’ in the new year with Cassie, Kate, and Teddy. Eli had refused, though he actually _had_ punched his fair share of bots in the battle (that wasn’t part of the weird coma/fever/battle dream), and though Billy didn’t understand why, he also didn’t push the issue.

He might have spent an awful lot of the previous day trying not to screech like a fanboy every time he thought about it.

Billy puffed a warm breath over his chilled digits before burying his face deeper into the folds of his scarf. If he kept his fingers wrapped around his drink, he would have less reason to fiddle with the small box in his pocket, nervously pulling and tugging and effectively ruining the delicate ribbon. He may or may not have spent an absurd time holed up in his room, fussing over paper choice and accent colors--almost as much time as he spent lurking in the shop, attempting to choose between this color and that, which shape and style might suit Teddy best, all while the girl behind the counter watched with raised (and very heavily pierced) brows.

He was nearly finished his coffee by the time the blond showed up, an apologetic smile on his face as he jogged to the bench.

“Sorry, sorry! I had to convince mom I really wasn’t going out to enact vigilante justice.” Teddy was grinning, so his conversation with his mother must have gone a lot easier than Billy’s own.

“She found out?” He knew there were news reports everywhere, boasting of the Avenger’s latest victory and pointing out the ‘new kids on the block’ (he really hoped that name didn’t stick).

“Not so much. I told her.”

“Really?”

“Really, really. She took it pretty well, though I think she probably suspected something was up with me ever since the shifting started in my teens.”

Billy filed that away under ‘things he would ask about later’ as he tossed his empty cup in the nearest trash bin. “So, uh, I suppose you’re wondering why I dragged you all the way out to the edges of Central Park on Christmas Eve…”

Teddy raised a brow and smiled; the look warmed Billy all the way to his toes. “I have a sneaking suspicion it might be something like this,” he murmured, pulling a thin parcel from behind his back, wrapped in bright green paper dotted with outlines of leaves and splashes of red berries. “It’s not much.”

Billy felt his pale cheeks heat as he wrapped his hands carefully around the edges of the gift. “I, uh, I have something for you too. It’s super small and not a lot because I didn’t really have much time but I wanted to--”

“Billy.” Teddy’s voice was soft and he was still smiling gently when the brunette finally pulled his eyes away from his shoes long enough to glance up. “I’m sure it’s perfect, whatever it is. I told you, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“But I _wanted_ to,” he answered, feeling his face redden all over again as he pulled the box from his pocket and thrust it towards the other in an outstretched hand. “Merry Christmas.”

Teddy moved forward in a swift motion, landing a quick kiss on Billy’s cheek. “Merry Christmas, Billy.” His breath ghosted a delicate heat over the shell of a pale ear before he slipped back, tugging at the ribbon. “Are we opening now?”

Billy nodded his head, a jerky motion as he focused on carefully peeling away the tape on his own gift, trying to keep his eyes from watching for Teddy’s reaction. It wasn’t until he pulled away the paper and looked up, tears misting his eyes, that he saw Teddy had stopped opening his gift completely just to watch him fiddle with the holly-riddled wrapping. There was the barest hint of a flush across his cheeks and Teddy scrubbed an embarrassed hand along the back of his neck. “After… after everything that happened I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how scared I was, how worried I was to lose you. But then I realized how strong you are, how much power you have and… it just made you all the more beautiful. So I guess I kind of… channeled that?”

Sure he was at least twelve shades of red, Billy looked back to the object clutched in his hands. It was a canvas, filled with every shade of blue imaginable. Each stroke was precise, delicate, and emanating from the brightest colors shining just left of center. Billy knew, instinctively, that it was him in that glow--that this all was him, his magic, his power, that light he felt dwelling, even now, in the very core of his being.

“Teddy,” he whispered, swallowing around a knot forming in his throat as he pulled the other into an awkward hug, holding the painting at an angle so it wouldn’t be damaged between them. “Thank you. It’s perfect.” Billy’s voice was strained, but he chose to ignore that in favor of clearing his throat and taking a step back. “Okay, so really, when I said it wasn’t much, I meant it…”

Rolling his bright blue eyes, Teddy resumed pulling at the ribbon-work until he could get the lid off the tiny box, falling silent once he was able to see the item inside.

“You hate it,” Billy said, worrying at his lip.

Without replying, Teddy took the small ear cuff from the velvet inlay, twisting it against the quickly-fading light to watch the colors shift and swirl within the engraved patterns. His face broke into a grin even as Billy continued to speak.

“I wasn’t sure what to get you, and I don’t know if you even change out the ones you have, but this one changes, kind of shifts you know? And I thought it might be cool but if you don’t like it you can return it, I have the receipt and I won’t be offended and--”

“Billy.”

“Yeah?” He was fidgeting, he knew he was fidgeting, his fingers smoothing an unsteady pattern along the wooden frame of his gift.

“It’s perfect,” Teddy whispered, beaming as he moved close, minimizing the distance between them and brushing his fingers along Billy’s cheek. “I love it. I love you, even if you overthink everything.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not. I wouldn’t change you for the world.”

Billy could feel the heat rising in his face all over again and he fought against the urge to bury his expression in his scarf. Instead, he turned his face just enough to press a kiss to Teddy’s palm. “Merry Christmas, Tee.”

“Merry Christmas, Bee.”


End file.
